


Carpe Piscis

by tygermine



Series: HMS Dramione [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Creature Fic, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hunter Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, References to Supernatural (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: There's a creature eating children. Hermione is sent to investigate.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: HMS Dramione [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595287
Comments: 34
Kudos: 62
Collections: round 12 2020





	Carpe Piscis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darkrivertempest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkrivertempest/gifts).



> After I needled Ningloreth to host the duet this year, I fell on my arse and took two extra days to write this. I blame the US election.
> 
> Anyway, written for DarkRiverTempest who is all about plot, so I wrote plot.  
> She wanted a Supernatural xover where Draco is a Hunter and Hermione works for the Dept of Magical Creatures. Their paths cross on an assignment.  
> Who wouldn't have fun with that?
> 
> Written very quickly at work on scrap paper and then beta'd with Grammarly and a bottle of stunning viognier/syrah (red wine)
> 
> All mistakes, plot holes and cock ups are my own and pointing them out to me will be appreciated.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Go to America, they said. Go investigate a child-eating monster, they said. Never mind that it’s below freezing, oh no. You’re the expert Granger. How can I be an expert if no one has ever heard of this thing?”

“Talking to yourself is not going to help warm you up, but it is expediting my urge to kill you.”

Hermione shot her dirtiest look over her shoulder at Draco Malfoy as he sat behind her in what could generously be called a dinghy. If one asked Hermione, it was closer to a few bits of wood held together with hope and rust.

“I’ve a mind to feed you to the monster myself,” she bit back, her breath frosting in the frigid air.

“If it means not spending another moment with you in this sinking pile of wood, I’d sacrifice myself to it.”

Malfoy’s sass was compromised by the chattering of his teeth.

“It’s not like you’re even qualified to be here,” Hermione felt the need to point out.

“It’s my job.”

“It’s not a job if you don’t get-” 

She was cut off by something knocking the bottom of the dinghy, causing it to rock violently. Her knuckles turned white as she clung to the wooden edge.

“Now look what your prattling’s done,” whispered Malfoy between clenched teeth.

The dinghy took another brutal knock from below causing some of the rotted wood to shatter. Water began pushing through the gaps, rising quickly.

This is it, thought Hermione. This is how I die. 

* * *

4 days earlier 

“There’s a case for you.”

Alan Tundridge leaned back in his seat and pointed at the file lying on his desk. 

Hermione picked it up and opened the file, reading the only sheet of paper in it.

“This is in America. Surely they have someone who can look into it.” She made to drop the file back on his desk.

“The Americans are not convinced that it’s actually a magical beast.”

“Then why make it our problem? I’m already up to my armpits in policy reviews and research.”

Tundridge leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on his thumbs. “As productive as that is, we can’t cause an international incident by denying our friends across the pond help when they require it.”

“They don’t ask for help when the muggles cock up choosing a president, but they want it to identify a creature?” Hermione narrowed her eyes and tilted her head at her colleague. “Fine, I’ll look into it, but I can’t guarantee that it’s magical.”

She turned towards the door when Tundridge stopped her. “Granger, it’s eating children.” With a shrug, she continued on her way, muttering to herself about how she’d feed him to it if she had half a chance.

Once in her office, she fired up the Floo to a contact at MACUSA. Gillian Blackthorn answered almost immediately.

“Tell me you’re pranking me,” Hermione started.

“Maybe I just missed you and wanted a ministry sponsored trip over here for you. You know it’s sale season on Madison avenue,” Gillian laughed.

“Gill, where’s Rufus? He usually checks this kind of thing out for you.”

“Yeah, about that,” Gillian’s Long Island accent thickened. “He got eaten a few weeks ago, but no one wants to report it cause it would mean killing the animal responsible. So it’s all hush hush around here.”

“He got eaten? By what?”

“A Nundu.”

Hermione exhaled sharply. “Where is it now?”

“In the suitcase. We got lucky when we caught it. It had just eaten Rufus, so it was a bit sluggish, which made things easier for us.”

Hermione wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she changed tact. “So this thing eating children in the north-west. What can you tell me?”

“Nothing really. Muggles contacted us complaining that one of our beasts was loose up there, but I swore up and down all ours were accounted for. They didn’t believe us, made a big stink, and now our minister had to please explain to the muggle chief of staff who is an asshole, just between us, and now he’s saying if we don’t reel it in, he’s sending the army, and we all know how that ends.”

“So I get to go. Gill, I’m on the verge of getting my vampire rights policy passed. If I leave now, it’ll take months until they have a gap to review and vote on it again.”

“What can I say, Hermione? It’s eating kids.”

“Yes, I got that part. I don’t know why everyone keeps mentioning it.”

“Cause they’re kids?”

“And I don’t care because I don’t have any?”

Gillian merely shrugged at Hermione’s question, which left a sour taste in her mouth. 

“Fine. Send me the paperwork to approve the travel and I’ll be there tomorrow, okay?”

Gillian squealed with delight. “I have them right here. See you tomorrow. And Hermione? I owe you one. Bye!”

The floo died down then fired up a moment later, depositing a packet of paperwork. Hermione picked it up and dusted off the ashes with a sigh. Looks like she was going to America.

Woo hoo, right?

* * *

Day 1

Hermione portkeyed to the American Ministry early the following afternoon, making her arrival time with the opening of the ministry.

After collecting the docket and having a quick catch up breakfast with Gill, she took a second portkey to the nearest town to the scene of the attacks.

Spokane in Washington state was actually a rather pleasant city, during the summer. In winter, however, it lost its charm as Hermione discovered when she portkeyed into the back room of a bookshop run by a ministry employee.

Carl was nice enough. 

He explained to Hermione that his bookshop was the only part of the wizarding world as the town was too small to really have a hidden area for wizards and those that do live in the area tended towards mountain chalets isolated from the rest of the world. Apparently, all the yeti sightings over the years were really just magical folk having fun with the muggles.

Fantastic, thought Hermione. An already superstitious community having to deal with children going missing was not going to be easy to investigate.

Carl added that her cover was that she worked for a specialist animal department at Oxford University and was investigating as part of her graduate work into unsolved crimes involving weird creatures. He said, almost apologetically that had she been able to fake an American accent, he would have just given her one of his fake FBI badges he kept in a drawer.

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Hermione said, handing the fake badge she’d been inspecting back to Carl. “I don’t plan on speaking to anyone.”

“This isn’t a big town. People will talk. Either to you or about you.”

Hermione shrugged. “It won’t be the first time and I’m perfectly capable of speaking to strangers.”

“Hermione, you’re a Brit in a small American town. If you don’t keep to your cover story, you’re going to have the sheriff knocking on your motel door.”

“If this creature is actually magical, a small-town sheriff is the last thing I need to worry about, especially if I don’t plan on staying longer than needed. Now, may I please go check-in. It’s after dinner in London and I need some food.”

Carl picked up an old fashioned landline rotor phone and dialled a number.

“I’m sure I can walk,” interjected Hermione.

He shook his head and had a quick conversation. He hung up and looked at her. “You’re not staying in town. I’ve booked you into a resort right on the lake.”

Two hours outside of town, on the banks of the lake stood the Easy Time Resort.

It was the late afternoon by the time Hermione's cab pulled into the driveway of the resort. The cabbie waved off her attempt to pay, saying that Carl had covered it.

The entrance to the resort was dark and looked abandoned. Hermione stood in the driveway for a few moments, contemplating if it was best to just go back to town and sleep there.

To her right, in the only occupied parking bay stood a car that she'd only seen on reruns of Top Gear when she went to visit her parents.

A ‘67 Mustang Shelby, all in black.

She gave it an appreciative once over as one does when one sees a rare classic muscle car. 

Who would drive a classic like that all the way out here?

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning.

"There better be some kind of take away available," she muttered as she pushed open the glass door to the resort foyer.

It was surprisingly well lit inside, giving it that cosy winter chalet feel. The check-in desk was to the left, with the clerk attending to a tall man wearing jeans and a leather jacket. Opposite them was a small sitting area with a large fireplace and above the fireplace- numerous stuffed and mounted wildlife. 

Their glass-eyed stare sent a chill down Hermione's spine.

The guest in the leather jacket nodded at the clerk and left the foyer towards the back door that led to the rooms.

Hermione stepped up to the counter.

"You're the British lady, aren't you?" Guessed the clerk. "Carl called ahead and said to expect you."

"Not many guests then?"

"Besides the James Dean wannabe who just checked in, you're our only other guest.”

"I assume it’s out of season for you, right?"

"Nah, we usually get booked up in the winter, but with those kids going missing and the lake not freezing up as usual, not many people wanna come up here."

The clerk reached behind him and handed her a key. "Your cabin is close to the dock, so you can use the boats for your research."

Hermione took the key. "Do you have any take away nearby where I can order some food?"

The clerk scoffed. "As if my ma would allow guests to stay without feeding them. There’s a menu on the table in your cabin. Just call your order in and we'll cook it up for you."

Hermione could feel her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Surely its too much trouble.”

“Not as much as trying to find a place that will deliver up here. People have been hinky with the kids disappearing and all.”

The clerk said it in a tone that hinted that he’d been thoroughly questioned by the authorities himself.

She leaned an elbow on the table. “So, what do you think is causing the disappearances?”

The clerk gave a dry laugh. “I’m not saying anything in case you decide to cart me off to the nearest loony bin.”

“Let’s just say I have an open mind,” she smiled sweetly at him.

The clerk slid his eyes left and right as if to check that no one was eavesdropping and leaned closer to her. “Well, rumour has it that back in the day, this lake was owned by some settlement of hillbillies. The leader had a run-in with some Pinkertons and was killed. Folks say his ghost still haunts the area and kidnaps kids to some secret cave where his descendants still live so they can raise them as their own.”

“So, the disappearances have been happening for a while?”

The clerk shook his head. “That’s the weird part. They only started happening a few years ago. No one knows what woke the old man’s ghost.”

“So there’s no forest creatures that would do this?”

He looked at her straight in the eye. “Only if they escaped hell.”

The cabin was spacious with a large bed that took up most of the room. The wall that overlooked the lake was made from picture windows and Hermine guessed that in the summer, it would be quite idyllic.

After settling in and placing her dinner order with the clerk’s mother, who sounded like a stern woman, Hermione placed a discreet warming charm on her coat and headed down to the lake.

Making sure the foliage hid her from prying eyes, she began to cast charm after charm on the lake, checking for its depth, inhabitants, temperature and other scientific readings.

They all came out normal - well, aside from its temperature, which Hermione attributed to global warming. A common occurrence worldwide was lakes not freezing when they should, despite the air temperatures dropping below zero. 

Her sonar charm revealed nothing but the kind of lake wildlife one would expect to find in a normal, muggle world lake. Nothing magical at all.

Which made the tiny little superstitious part of her mind think of the story the clerk had told her. Ghost hunting was not part of her job description though, so she’d have to call in a curse breaker to deal with it.

Knocking from her cabin drew her back where the clerk’s mother was waiting for her with a tray.

“You shouldn’t be out at the lake once it gets dark,” she chided Hermione. “Bad things happen out there once the sun goes down.”

She waited for Hermione to open the door, deposited the tray on the small desk in the corner and gave Hermione a scrutinising look. “You stay out of trouble, you hear?” 

With that, she left, navigating the path to the main building with the ease of someone who could walk it in their sleep.

Maybe it wasn’t a ghost or a creature - maybe it was just plain old humans doing the evil deeds, Hermione thought as she closed and locked her door.

* * *

Day 2

Hermione didn’t get much sleep that night, her mind running through her almost encyclopedic knowledge of magical creatures and dismissing them as they did not meet the child-murdering criteria she was looking for. 

The lumpy pillow didn’t help much either.

So when she finally woke up to the watery winter sunlight outside, it was for a very large cup of tea. 

After a quick lukewarm shower with pitiful pressure that she was sure didn’t rinse all the conditioner out of her hair, she pulled on a pair of thick jeans, a warm long-sleeved t-shirt that had a band from the early 00s on the front and to keep up appearances, an Oxford university sweatshirt over it. She’d thought Oxbridge would be above merchandising their name, unlike the American Ivy Leagues, but she was evidently wrong.

Doc Martins she’d bought ten years previously at the British Boot Company in Camden laced up, she was ready to hunt a magical beast - or a cup of tea first.

The dining area was deserted when she walked in, so she continued to the kitchen doors and stuck her head around the corner. There, on one of the steel prep tables stood an urn busy boiling away. Mugs were laid out next to it, including sachets of coffee, tea as well as sugar and milk. It practically screamed Help Yourself. 

Which is exactly what she did.

Taking tentative sips of her hot tea, she walked towards the kitchen door to have a seat at one of the tables when the door suddenly swung open.

Unfortunately, it swung right into her, knocking the tea all over her sweatshirt and her arse to the floor.

“Fucking hell!” she exclaimed from the floor, trying to decide what to deal with first; the scalding tea seeping through her clothes, the bruising pain radiating from her arse and elbow where it hit the edge of a table or the fact that Draco Malfoy was standing over her looking very confused.

* * *

“What?” 

Hermione found herself sitting at one of the tables, her clothes freshly scourified and a new cup of tea in front of her.

Across from her sat Draco Malfoy, his hands wrapped around his own mug.

“That’s the million galleon question, isn’t it, Granger?” The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

“What?”

“What am I doing here?” He continued helpfully.

She nodded dumbly.

He leaned back in his seat and took a sip from his mug. “I should be asking you that. Just what is Hermione Granger doing in the muggle world in a deserted resort in winter in America? I asked myself that, and you know what the answer is?” He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. “I don’t actually care.”

Hermione blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Now you’re just sounding like a broken record. Come on then, complete a question at least, or has working for the ministry robbed you of your last wit?”

“My wits are all accounted for, thank you very much.” 

“Ah, you’re back. Excellent.” He drained his mug and set it on the table. “My work here is done.” He rose from the table and turned to leave. “See you around, Granger.”

“No. Wait! Stop!”

He turned back to her. “I’m not a dog, Granger. I don’t follow instructions.” With that, he left her in the dining room, feeling very confused.

* * *

“Malfoy! Oi! Wait up!”

Hermione hurried after him as he made his way towards the lake. He didn’t break his long-legged stride until he reached the beach beside the dock.

She hated to admit she was slightly out of breath when she reached him.

“Office work making you soft, Granger?” He simply arched a brow at her winded arrival.

“What…” she swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying a lovely winter stroll in nature.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously, Malfoy.”

“You’ve never taken me seriously, so why start now?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? You spent too much time in my business when we were at school, so how about trying a new approach by staying out of it and getting on with your own business.”

“As a ministry employee, any suspicious wizard in the muggle world is my business.”

“Suspicious? I’ve done nothing but clean you up and give you a cup of tea. How very suspicious of me to do that.”

“Your mere presence here is suspicious.”

“What is the ministry’s business in the US? Your domain is across the pond, not here.”

“I have special permission to be here. What’s your excuse?”

“This might give you an aneurism, but I’m here to help people.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, come off it, Granger. It’s been nearly twenty years since we’ve seen each other and I’m sure you’ve grown as a person since then.” He eyed her sweatshirt. “Definitely as a woman.”

She punched him in the arm.

“Still violent. I retract my statement. You’re still the same.”

“As are you. I don’t buy it.”

“I don’t need you to buy it, I need you to stay out of my way.” He gestured to the lake. 

“You’re investigating the missing children as well?”

It was his turn to raise his eyebrows at her. “No, I fancy a bit of skinny dipping.”

“Malfoy, this isn’t a joking matter. Tell me what you’re doing here.”

“See, Granger, that’s the brilliant thing about this being America, the land of the free. I’m not obligated to tell you a single thing and the joy that gives me is immeasurable. Now, go bother anyone else.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and turned to leave the lake.

“That doesn’t make you look cool, you know!” she shouted at his retreating back.

Turning back to the lake, her hands clenched, Hermione took a few deep breaths to still the churning in her mind. Forget about Draco Malfoy. Concentrate on the case. Work the case. What are the angles? What did she miss? What wasn’t she considering?

She exhaled slowly and let the cold numb her nose as she stared out over the water.

“What are you?” she whispered.

* * *

It was dark by the time Hermione returned to her cabin, having walked as far around the banks of the lake as she could.

Creatures, magical or mundane, always leave some physical evidence of their existence. Unfortunately for her sore feet and frozen fingers, the creature either hid itself extremely well or it didn’t come to the edges of the lake.

There was a post-it stuck to her cabin door.

“Dinner will be ready at 7pm in the dining room.”

She checked her wristwatch - it was just after 6:30pm. 

Using a sneaky heating charm, she had a long, hot shower and then made her way up to the main building.

There was a sense of relief when she realised she was alone in the dining room, a single table laid out for her.

The clerk appeared through the kitchen door as she took her seat.

“Dinner is almost ready. Mama said to offer you something to drink, but I should warn you, we don’t do fancy here. Beers, shots and hot chocolate is all we have.” He almost sounded apologetic.

“A cup of tea?” she ventured.

“Yeah, sure.” The clerk shrugged and went back into the kitchen. A few moments later he walked back out with a tray. 

As he placed a bowl of soup and a plate of steamed salmon in front of her, he smiled. “Kettle’s boiling. I’ll bring the tea out soon.”

Hermione smiled in thanks and not realising how hungry she actually was, had inhaled her bowl of soup before the tea even arrived.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said to the clerk. 

“It’s Roger.”

“Would you care to join me? I have a few more questions about the lake.”

Roger slid into the seat across from her. “I don’t know what more I can tell you.”

“Besides the children being taken, have there been any other odd occurrences? Maybe the wildlife acting a bit odd?”

Roger went quiet for a bit, his gaze distant. “Nah,” he shrugged. “Just the kids. And it’s not like we don’t have signs posted all over the park telling people to mind their kids and keep them out of the water if they can’t swim.”

“So you don’t think its a monster?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. People turn up every few months to investigate but no one actually does anything, you know? We’ve had some pretty strange characters turn up. But you and that other dude? You seem normal enough.”

Hermione inadvertently snorted at his statement. “What did the other man tell you he was investigating?”

“Same as you, but from the Federal Parks Board. Like forest FBI, I guess.” Roger scrunched his nose. “They must have relaxed their uniforms cos I haven’t seen a Parks person show up in biker boots, you know?”

Hermione nodded in agreement. 

Roger tapped his knuckles on the table. “Well, if that’s all, I really gotta get back to work.”

“You’ve been very helpful, thank you, Roger.”

Hermione needed to do some extra research, which meant a trip into town. After finishing her meal, she went to find a deserted spot behind her cabin to apparate into the alley next to Carl’s bookshop.

She couldn’t get it to work. Someone had placed an anti-apparition over the area.

Someone magical knew she was here, someone other than Draco, as he obviously wasn’t going to concern himself with her movements.

There was a third party in the area and being unaccounted for, made Hermione nervous.

She checked the cabins closest to her first, but they appeared unoccupied. She widened her search until she had three left when she heard a door open at the last cabin.

Malfoy stepped out, closing and locking the door behind him.

She called his name, stumbling over the exposed roots along the footpath.

He paused and tilted his head back, eyes closed as if sending a quick prayer to a deity. He only lowered his head when she was a few feet away and pinned her with a steely look.

“Granger-” he started but she cut him off with waving hands.

“There’s another wizard here. They put up an anti-apparition shield.”

His eyes narrowed. “Good thing I don’t apparate these days.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why, but now really wasn’t the time for it. “I need to go into town to do more research.”

“I think the research will have to wait until later,” he muttered, glancing over her head.

In one fluid motion, he pulled a handgun from the small of his back and fired over her shoulder. The noise made her fall to the side, away from the gun, her hand over her left ear.

Malfoy didn’t spare her a second glance, swearing as he scanned the dark forest in front of them. He paused for a breath and fired off another shot, the bang causing Hermione to jerk in surprise.

He pulled her to her feet by her bicep and practically dragged her towards the reception building, pushing her through the door and herding her to the Mustang Shelby outside. Malfoy pushed her into the passenger seat, his eyes constantly scanning their dark surroundings.

He slid behind the wheel, turned over the engine and peeled out of the parking lot and onto the pitch-black road to Spokane.

Beyond the high pitched whine in her ears, everything else was muffled, helping her process what had just happened.

“Who was that?” she shouted.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t know!” Malfoy shouted at her before clenching his jaw so hard, the muscle in his cheek bounced. “But they had a wand.”

Hermione shook her head to clear the white noise in her ears and took stock of the situation. It was two hours to Spokane, but the way Malfoy was driving, they’d make it back in half that time.

“Did you have to use a gun?” She asked at a lower volume.

“They can’t track guns.”

“You’re still hiding!” she exclaimed.

He slid his eyes towards her for a moment, effectively killing off her line of questioning.

“I need to contact MACUSA,” she said instead. “I have to advise them that we have a hostile wizard in the area. They’ll be able to-” She cut herself off as Malfoy took a corner a little too sharply for her liking.

“We’ll be dead before they arrive,” he answered softly.

There was a thunderous cracking sound followed by the thud of a tree falling across the road. Malfoy swore, turning the wheel sharply, which sent the car into a spin, crashing it lengthways along the tree trunk on the driver’s side.

The velocity had pushed Hermione right up against Draco, her legs braced against the dashboard out of instinct. Her temple connected with his shoulder while his head hit the door frame. He pushed her off as he worked the gears until they caught, lurching the car off the road into the woods, the metal screeching along the tree bark until Draco swerved out of the reach of the branches.

The Shelby made metallic protesting noises as Draco gunned the engine, digging through the snowy mud and swerving between trees. They broke through onto a dirt track wide enough for the car and followed it until they hit a puddle deep enough for the car to sink until the wheels were covered.

“Get out!” He shouted, pushing at her and leaning across the seats to open her door.

Hermione scrambled out of the wreck, pulling her wand from the hidden holster in her jeans.

“Lu-”

Draco pulled her arms down, pointing her wand to the ground. “No light. We need to go. Quickly and quietly.” There was a thin trickle of blood along his eyebrow.

She switched her wand to the other hand, allowing Draco to knot their fingers together, leaving his right hand free - all the better to shoot with, my dear.

They jack rabbited from tree to tree, pausing often to listen out for their pursuer. 

The moon reached its zenith, the temperature dropped even more and the snow had leaked into her Doc Martins, numbing her toes. She stopped behind a tree and pulled Malfoy against her, leaving a scant inch between them. She didn’t need to see him to know he was raising his brow at her.

“We need to apparate,” she whispered.

She felt, more than saw him nod, his hand taking hold of her elbow to side along apparate. Hermione pictured the alley beside the bookshop and felt the pull of the magic.

* * *

It wasn’t the bookshop alley that they landed in.

Within a breath of apparating, she felt her wand pulled from her hand.

Opening her eyes in surprise, she gasped as she realised they had apparated into a cell, complete with damp stone walls and thick iron bars. Old fashioned flame torches sat in sconces beyond the bars, throwing the room into shadows as they flickered.

Glancing to the side, she saw Malfoy standing beside her, staring at his empty hands in shock. He caught her eye and the look was deadly.

She looked back through the bars, trying to see who had confiscated her wand.

The room beyond was deserted.

* * *

“You know, it’s times like these that I wish the bad guys would appear to monologue dramatically so I can at least see what I’m up against,” Malfoy mused as he sat on the cold floor, back to the stone wall, watching the room beyond.

“You sound like this happens to you often.”

“It comes with the job, doesn’t it?”

“And what, exactly is your job?” The cold was making Hermione a little tetchy.

“Hunting things. Saving people.”

“For MACUSA?”

Malfoy snorted in derision and shook his head. “I’m a freelancer.”

“I’m sure it pays well.”

“I don’t charge people for saving their life, Granger. That’s just tacky.”

“How can you afford this lifestyle?” she demanded to know.

“I’m a Malfoy,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“I’m a Malfoy,” she mouthed mockingly. “That’s not an answer.”

“Its the only answer I’m giving you.”

“Then answer me this,” she knew this was the only chance she had to get any answers out of him. A truly captive audience. “Who are you hiding from?”

“Who says I’m hiding. It’s the second time you’ve brought that up.” He winced as he adjusted his position. 

“Malfoy, you’re using a gun instead of a wand. A car instead of apparating. You've gone full muggle. Why?”

His mouth pulled into a sneer. “I thought you’d be ready to throw a parade in my honour.”

“Maybe once upon a time, but seeing it in action? It makes me sad, actually.”

“I don’t need your pity, Granger. Not now. Your brain, however, the one that solves puzzles, that’s what I need right now. So let’s put a pin in my personal life and get out of here.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just… I need to distract myself until I figure this out.”

“Playing twenty questions with me is not how I’d distract you.” He teasingly waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Context, Malfoy. Lewd suggestions will not get you anywhere when we’re both cold, dirty, hungry and trapped.”

“You forgot angry. I’m very angry, Granger.”

“That goes without saying.” She got up and walked around the cell for the umpteenth time, rechecking it for weaknesses. “I agree with you though, I could do with-”

“A shag?”

“A bad guy monologue.”

“Monologues get bad guys caught,” came a third voice from the dark recesses of the other room.

  
  


“So then don’t monologue, just let us go and we’ll not hold a grudge,” bargained Malfoy.

The voice snorted. “Oh no. You, Malfoy, you hold grudges.”

“So, we’ve met,” ventured Malfoy.

The voice sighed. “Unfortunately.”

Hermione gasped out a laugh in surprise at the words and sent an apologetic look towards Malfoy. “I mean, he’s not wrong,” she felt the need to point out.

“You, I’ll deal with later,” he shook a finger at her. “Come on then, let me see who I’m dealing with.”

“Yeah, no. I have a better idea,” replied the voice.

Suddenly the two were bound together by a length of rope and with a pop, disapparated, landing on a boat, tied to the dock at the resort.

* * *

“Where is your wand?” Hermione asked, as their ropes were released after their captor magicked the boat out onto the middle of the lake.

“I lost it years ago,” he replied shortly.

Silence settled onto the boat as the water lapped at the wood.

* * *

The boat was sinking around them.

“We need to swim,” Malfoy stated.

“We have no idea what’s below us!” 

The water was already lapping at their calves.

“If we swim, maybe the thing will be distracted by the boat, giving us a chance to get away.”

“And develop hyperthermia, thus causing us to die faster.”

“Granger, I swear to God, you better get in the water and start swimming or I’ll -”

“You’ll what? Kill me yourself? We can’t swim, we’ll get eaten.”

“You’re the magical creature expert. Surely you can tame the beast.”

“I don’t even know what it is!”

The water was up to their knees, leaving them little choice.

“Okay, okay,” said Hermine, taking big gulps of air as the cold overtook her body. “No splashing or jumping. We need to slide into the water and slowly paddle away.”

“This is going to suck so much,” Malfoy complained but followed her lead as she slid along the broken side of the dinghy and grabbed some driftwood. 

They were maybe a yard or two from the dinghy when something reared itself out of the water and attacked the remains fo the dinghy, shattering it to bits.

“What was that?” stuttered Draco beside her.

“It looked like a really big carp,” she gasped. “Come. kick softly. Don’t disturb the water.”

Malfoy kept quiet and stayed beside her, kicking his long legs as if doing a breaststroke, keeping his feet below the water.

Something big slithered below them, pushing them upwards.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Hermione chanted, her words fogging up in front of her.

“Shhhh,” he cautioned. “Nearly there.”

There being the nearest bank to the river, lit up with flashing blue and red lights.

A fishy tail whipped below them, the tip of the fin catching Hermione on her knees. She froze.

“No, don’t stop. Keep swimming,” whispered Malfoy.

“I...can’t…”

The water swirled below them as the creature overtook them and turned back, swimming towards them, breaching the surface, its mouth wide open.

“The wood!” cried Hermione, turning the driftwood in her hands until it stood vertically, bobbing in the water. 

He copied her, bracing against the creature and it bore down on them.

Less than a foot from them, it dove below the surface, causing waves to splash over them.

“It’s toying with us,” exclaimed Malfoy. “Keep going!”

They were now maybe twenty yards from the beach, with the creature constantly swimming under and around them, surfacing every few feet to repeat its mock attack.

A large spotlight lit upon them from the beach.

“Over here!” shouted Malfoy, swimming faster, his driftwood abandoned to hold onto Granger instead.

In the distance, they heard a boat engine start-up.

“No!” They can’t come here. It’ll destroy the boat!” she protested.

“I’m willing to take that chance,” he snapped and began towing her towards the noise of the boat engine.

He felt a tug on the hand holding Hermione and when he glanced towards her, he saw the hand disappear below the surface.

“NO!” He dove below the surface, hands frantically reaching to catch her. He swam until his lungs felt like bursting. He surfaced quickly, gulped in a large breath of air and dove back down again.

He opened his eyes, but he couldn’t see a thing, the lake as black as the sky above them, the icy water feeling like needles stabbing his eyes.

Malfoy didn’t stop diving under to find her until her felt arms lock around his waist, pulling him from the water. He struggled against the rescue, shouting Hermione’s name until they pulled him over the side of the boat.

“I’m sorry,” said a deputy. “She’s gone.”

* * *

Hermione woke up in a cave. Although this one did not have iron bars, which as already a plus in her books. Plus, being alive was a definite bonus.

She rolled over and coughed up the last few vestiges of lake water. 

Then she threw up the rest of the water.

The cave was surprisingly warm, or she was seriously hyperthermic at this point and honestly, she was too tired to care.

Water splashed near her feet and she raised her head to see the creature’s head breach the surface. It shuddered and shook itself, throwing droplets all over her.

She didn’t want to ask if anyone was there. That’s how horror movies went wrong.

Instead, Hermione rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly. She turned to the creature.

“What was that all about?”

The creature lurched from side to side.

“Pulling me into frigid water is not a game.” She shook her trembling hands, bright red and covered in scratches from the driftwood.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let the quiet of the cave envelope her as she searched for a spell she’d read once in a book a long time ago. Her mind conjured the pages and she followed the instructions, her fingers stiff and unused to the manipulations required.

Light pressed against her eyelids, letting her know the spell had worked.

Hovering above her head was a small mage light.

“Ten points to ancient Persia,” she crowed half-heartedly.

With the help of the mage light, she was able to do a proper inspection of the creature. It looked like a much larger version of the carp her father would sometimes catch when he went fishing.

Bottom feeders, he called them and usually threw them back into the water.

“You’re not magical,” she murmured to it as it bobbed near the surface. “But how did you get so big?”

It flopped its head this way and that.

“How can he control you?” She lifted her hand as if to stroke it, but she had no intention of going back in the water.

The carp seemed to lose all interest in her and sank back into the depths of the lake.

Hermione used the mage light to survey the cave. It has a flat roof with stalactites hanging from it, some low enough that Hermione had to duck around them. The walls glimmered in the light and seemed to form a solid length that wrapped around the whole area.

The entrance that the carp had brought her through must be underwater as there was no opening on the lake side.

Part of the wall opposite to where Hermione woke up threw up a shadow, suggesting an opening. Hermione crept towards it, each step carefully navigating the loose stones and uneven floor.

As she stepped towards the shadow, she felt a soft breeze against her cheeks and had to bite back an excited squeal. She settled for a small victory jig instead.

Which was how she ended up confounded and wrapped in ropes - again.

* * *

“Why didn’t it eat you?”

Rough hands grabbed at her cheeks and jerked her head back painfully.

Hermione blinked a few times to lift the daze from her mind.

“What?” Her tongue felt swollen and a headache was settling in her temples.

“It was supposed to eat you and him. Why didn’t it eat you too?” The fingers dug into her scalp, pulling her until she hissed in pain.

“It was full?” She garbled.

“Bullshit!” The hands released her head roughly, causing her to hit it against the wall behind her. “It was big enough to consume you both!”

The wizard was pacing in front of her now and she had a chance to really examine him. He was American from his accent and just out of his teens, based on the pitiful moustache on his upper lip. He wore a cloak that Hermione hadn’t seen on wizards in a long time. Old fashioned, black and long. The breast pocket looked as if a school badge had been ripped off of it.

The wizard stopped pacing and pulled his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at her,

“You were not supposed to be part of this. It was all for him.”

“Malfoy?”

“That man murdered my family.”

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Look, I’m the last person to wax lyrical about Draco Malfoy. In fact, I have a list of unsavoury names for him, but murderer is not one of them.”

“You don’t know him like I do.” The wizard sniffed. “But that’s fine now. He’s dead. Now you can die too. I don’t need any witnesses.”

“Why not just obliviate me?”

The wizard blushed and became even more agitated. “I never finished my schooling. Never got to the complicated stuff.”

“Because of your family?”

“Because Draco Malfoy allowed them to die!”

“Okay. Okay,” she licked her cracked lips. “I’ll talk you through the charm. Just drop me off in town when you’re done, okay?”

The wizard gave her a worried look. “You sure?”

“Yes. Without my memory, I can’t tell anyone about you, or what you’ve done. Raising the fish, feeding it the young children, planning Malfoy’s murder.”

He paled at her words. “How did you know that?”

“This has been a long con for you. I still can’t understand how you got the fish to grow so big.”

“I didn’t,” he shrugged. “Pollution runoff mutated it. I just found it.”

“That makes sense. Now, about the spell. You need to get the wand movements just right.”

The wizard looked at the wand in his hand and waved it around as if testing his mobility.

“Right, so… what’s your name?”

“Ben.”

“Okay Ben,” Hermione kept her voice soft and soothing. “You need to draw a rune with it. Now, start at six o’clock and flick it upwards in a straight line. When you get to twelve o’clock, you need to do an elongated S down the centre. Got it? Show me.”

Ben practised the rune a few times until he perfected it.

“Excellent work,” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice calm. “Now for the words. Are you ready? Aim it just above my head until the memories begin to rise up out of it. Then you need to lasso them into your wand. Ready?”

Ben nodded and bit his lip.

“Repeat after me. _Tadi alsama_.”

He repeated the words and gave a few practice swishes of his wand. When he felt ready, he stood over Hermione and waved his wand while intoning the words.

As his wand finished the rune, an unseen force pulled his wand straight up past his head to point at the ceiling and a huge beam of light shot out of it, crashing through the roof.

Ben didn’t have a chance to react before a rock fell from the roof, catching him on his shoulder and knocking him to the floor, where he hit his head and passed out.

Hermione pushed herself against the wall, hoping her stunt didn’t cause a complete cave-in. Something struck the side of her head and she fell into darkness.

* * *

“-not enough to just annoy me, oh no, you had to go and collapse a bloody cave over you and don’t think for a second that gets you out of this. I will resurrect you myself and kill you-”

The words echoed through Hermione’s head, giving her something to cling onto.

“- but no, you’re the bloody expert. Expert at what, exactly? Suicide missions? They don’t pay you enough for this nonsense-”

She followed the words up and up and up, the darkness around her fading until she felt as if she was pressing up against her closed eyelids.

“-Potter will hunt me down, you know. Claim it’s all my fault. Arrest me and throw me in Azkaban, as if this was my idea. I don’t like you very much, but your death will not be due to me-”

She wanted to take a deep breath, but something was blocking her throat. She tried to swallow, but the obstruction stayed put. Hermione began to panic.

“-why is that machine making such a noise? Is she waking up? Someone tell me something!”

“Mr Malfoy, you should wait outside.”

“Hermione, it’s fine. Calm down.”

She felt her jaw being pushed open and the obstruction slide out of her throat. She took a deep breath and fell back into the darkness.

* * *

“-just for my sake, I need you to wake up-”

“-Hermione? It’s Gill. I’m so so sorry for making you do this investigation. Please, doll, wake up.”

“-sub-par if you ask me. No one likes lime jello-”

Hermione came back to herself in stops and starts, like waves crashing on the beach then pulling back into the ocean. 

“Almost there,” she told herself. “Open your eyes.”

Her eyelids felt welded shut as she tried to blink them open when suddenly they opened. They closed again a moment later, so she forced them open again and again until they stayed open.

The light was dim and she wasn’t able to make out where she was, just a grey pressed board ceiling above her.

She tried to move her hands, but her one hand was trapped by something warm and soft. She moved each finger as much as she could, tapping them and bending them. Hermione tried to lift the hand not being held, but it made every muscle in her body protest, which seemed to wake her the rest of the way.

Hermione turned her head carefully, the muscles in her neck stiff and the throb in her temples loud.

She had to blink a few times, because sitting beside her, holding her hand was a sleeping Draco Malfoy.

A rasping sound escaped her throat as she tried to talk. When she tried to swallow, her throat made odd clicking sounds around her swollen tongue.

“Maaa,” she croaked. “Fooo.”

He didn’t move, so she wiggled the fingers that he held. It took a while, but he finally stirred. The moment between sleep mussed and wide awake was a moment she’d remember as long as she lived as that Draco was someone she’d like to get to know, she thought.

“Granger? Finally. You’ve been asleep for days. Really, for a workaholic, you do take the piss when it comes to being booked off sick.” His words were snide, but his tone was playful and almost tender.

“Maa,” she croaked again.

“Water?” He let go of her hand to pour her a glass and held it out to her.

She frowned at him. 

“Oh, right.” He found a few switches which levered the upper part of the bed up until she was sitting up. He then held out the cup to her, frowned when her hands flopped uselessly on the mattress before holding it gently to her lips so she could take small sips.

After the lake water, this was pure bliss for her, soothing her throat, tongue and removing the stickiness that pressed her cheeks to her teeth.

“Not too much, just little sips. There you go,” Malfoy softly directed her until she was done. He placed the cup on the bedside table and rested his elbows on his knees.

“You’re in a lot of trouble, by the way. We found you with a dead body. They’re talking manslaughter charges. I keep telling them it was self-defence.” He looked her dead in the eye. “Which leaves you with two choices, by my reckoning. One, go back to the ministry and spend at least a year doing paperwork and interrogations about this clusterfuck.” He dropped his head for a moment, letting it hang low as he debated something with himself.

“Or, option two,” he raised his head and caught her with his silver look. “Join me. I got the car fixed, I have a rather large inheritance that I have no way of spending in my lifetime, and I am in the business of saving people.”

“Do,” the word hurt her throat and she cleared it a few times before continuing. “Do I have a third option?”

“Countless options, actually,” he smiled wanly.

She reached out her hand until he folded their fingers together. “Option two is looking rather appealing, to be honest. Let me sleep on it?”

He huffed. “Granger, you’ve been asleep for a week. Time waits for no man or woman.”

“Time can kiss my arse. I need another nap, maybe some food and then I’ll let you know my decision.”

“I can buy you two more days before MACUSA descends.”

“We’ll be long gone by then,” she smiled and drifted back off to sleep.

The End

2 Weeks Later...

"So everything's sorted?"

"Yeah, but 'Mione, I'm definitely putting this on your favour tab. What a mission to get done."

"I really appreciate it Harry."

"Are you completely sure about this?"

Hermione glanced over at Draco, who was sitting at the small motel table cleaning his gun whilst humming along to some pop tune on the radio.

As if feeling her gaze on him, he looked up and gave her a small smile, which she automatically returned.

"Yeah, I think this is the best decision I've made in a long time."

"Okay, just... don't get either of you killed."

"I'll try my best. Love to everyone there. Bye."

She hung up the phone, motels being void of Floo connections, and tossed it on the bed and dropped onto the mattress beside it. A few bullets that were lying on the bed rolled towards her and she picked one up and began to fidget with it.

"So you're in the clear?" he asked, his eyes on the job at hand.

"As much as I can be," she sighed. "What a mess."

"Look, Ben was a very angry young man who didn't have all the facts. Like I said to the investigating Aurors, his family had been attacked by a newly turned werewolf. He arrived home just after I killed it, and he ran off before I could explain, because he thought I was the killer."

"I know," Hermione rolled her head slowly, letting the muscles pull and stretch. "But I still feel bad about killing him, even if it was an accident. The roof shouldn't have collapsed like that. It just proved how much power he had. If only he'd had someone to help him."

Draco slid the various gun components back into place with metallic clinks. 

"It's done now. All we can do is try to find and rescue others like him," he said, standing up and holstering the gun by the small of his back. "Grab your coat, I'm taking you out for dinner."

"I saw a little diner down the road."

He shook his head. "I'm taking you out for a steak dinner."

"Why?" She paused sliding on her coat.

"Because I want to make it a proper date."

"A _date_ date?" Her eyes widened.

He smiled at her words. "Yes. I'll even walk you to your door afterwards and hope to earn a goodnight kiss."

Hermione smiled brightly, grabbed Draco by his leather jacket and pulled him in for a breathtaking kiss.

"Or we could skip dinner?" She suggested once they'd run out of breath.

He shook his head. "I'll need my strength for afterwards." He gave her a soft peck on the lips. "Come along, Granger. Food now, orgasms later."

He stepped away from her, taking her hand and escorted her to the newly rebuilt Mustang.

"Promises, promises," she teased him as they locked the hotel door and headed out for their first of many dates.


End file.
